


"Goodnight, John."

by luceskywalker



Series: Baker Street Irregulars [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Bromance, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, I fail at writing summaries, Johnlock bromance, One Shot, Post-Case, Pre-Slash, Present Tense, Rituals, Slice of Life, even Sherlock has to clean his teeth, everyday things, late night, longsighted Sherlock, mummy holmes - Freeform, nightly ablutions, things written in one go, things written on my iPad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-27
Updated: 2013-01-27
Packaged: 2017-11-27 03:07:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/657372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luceskywalker/pseuds/luceskywalker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John's favourite version of Sherlock is the one that only emerges late at night after they've solved a case.</p>
            </blockquote>





	"Goodnight, John."

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [If Your Memory Serves You Well](https://archiveofourown.org/works/591176) by [ariane221b](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ariane221b/pseuds/ariane221b). 



> Just something that popped into my head. It's probably not perfect but I just wanted to get it out.
> 
> Things in the brackets are not things John is thinking. They are things that he doesn't know, or the thoughts of other characters.

John's favourite side of Sherlock is the one that only emerges late at night after they've solved a case. John stands in the bathroom doorway, watching this almost-unrecognisable Sherlock stand barefoot in the bathroom at 3:25am in delightfully worn-out pyjamas, cleaning his teeth in precise, rapid movements. He is almost unrecognisable from the Sherlock of the daytime hours. He is unashamedly wearing his glasses because he's already taken out his contacts but still needs to see to clean his teeth. His hair is mussed from the haphazard way he pulled on his t-shirt. (But he doesn't bother about fixing it because he's about to go to sleep so what's the point?)

Sherlock glances up as he finishes with his teeth and catches sight of John in the doorway. He smiles at John through the mirror and, unable to speak with his mouth still full of toothpaste, holds up two fingers of his free hand to indicate how much longer he'll be. John just nods and smiles back. (Sherlock always makes a conscious effort to move faster after seeing John, unwilling to keep the shorter man from his sleep longer than is necessary.)

Before he rinses out his mouth Sherlock cleans his dental plate with the leftover toothpaste on his brush. (It has been fifteen years since Sherlock's braces were taken off but he still dutifully wears his plate whenever he goes to sleep - Sherlock's fear of his dental hygienist is just as strong as some people's fear of God.) When it's not being worn, the plate lives in its original plastic case on the corner of the bathroom counter. The plate is royal blue, Sherlock's favourite colour.

The plate and Sherlock's toothbrush are rinsed off under the tap, and the dark-haired man one-handedly fills a yellow plastic cup with water, which he uses to rinse out his mouth. John has never asked about the cup, but assumes that it's something Sherlock always used as a child. (It is.) He will never ask, because he suspects that the habit is mostly subconscious by now and if he draws attention to it, this charming bit of sentimentality will be lost. (He's right.)

Sherlock gracefully steps back with his right foot and leans over, spitting quietly and neatly into the basin once, twice, three times, and pours the rest of the water down the drain, washing away any stray toothpaste in the process. He fits the plate into his mouth with practised movements, places his brush handle-down in the cup and sets the cup on the counter next to his plate case. It has been precisely two minutes since he saw John's reflection in the mirror.

The blonde man is still at the doorway, and feels oddly privileged to have witnessed such a quietly normal ritual. 'Quietly' and 'normal' are not adjectives that can usually be applied to the things Sherlock does, but just seeing him clean his teeth is enough to reassure John that the other man is, in fact, human. But then again he never really doubts it. 

John knows that this is a side that very few people ever see of Sherlock, and that's why he loves it. John also knows that from here, Sherlock will go to his room but won't sleep immediately: he might spend a little while reading - at the moment the taller man is working his way through _Anna Karenina_ (in the original Russian, of course; translations are boring) - or perhaps he'll call his mother and tell her about the case. Mummy Holmes likes to hear about cases as much as Sherlock likes to solve them. (But mostly she likes to hear that her youngest son is, to some degree, happy. For many years she worried that he wouldn't make it past thirty, much less make something of a proper life for himself.)

Sherlock runs a hand through his already-messy hair, turns away from the mirror and steps over to the doorway. He stops in front of John, reading in the doctor's tired face the satisfaction of a job well done. (Sherlock smiles at this, at the fact that John has come to enjoy solving crimes as much as he himself does, but also at the fact that even after everything, John is still here.)

John knows what that smile means.

This is his favourite part.

Sherlock is so close that John can feel his body heat, and his expression is uncharacteristically soft. Only this side of Sherlock ever looks at John like that. Sherlock's smile widens almost imperceptibly, and just before he leaves the room, the end of the moment is commemorated with two quiet words, spoken fondly in his rich, deep voice.

"Goodnight, John."


End file.
